


The Rhythm Was All I Needed To Hear

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Music School, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Summer Program, ashton's still on his drums, oh and calum plays the cello
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3337202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Ashton Irwin was a problem. To say him and Calum didn't get along was an understatement. Calum would grumble and grow sour every time he saw Ashton or whenever his name was mentioned. He couldn’t stand the guy."</i><br/> </p><p>or</p><p>Calum is on a summer program in a highly respected music school and he's over the moon. He's not over the moon he met Ashton in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rhythm Was All I Needed To Hear

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (attempt of) a 5sos fic. Initially it was only going to be around 6k words but I guess I got a little bit too enthusiastic about it. Be gentle on me (but not really)! The title is from "I'm Into You" by Chet Faker.
> 
> Good luck with this!

The noise of his alarm clock grew louder and louder, echoing in Calum’s brain until he lazily opened his eyes. He turned it off while still lying on his small yet comfy bed, letting out a yawn. He slowly sat up, stretched his limbs and got up, heading to the shower. It wasn't hard for him to wake up during times like these.

Calum could not be happier, really. He was having the time of his life. He was currently on a twelve-week summer program in Berklee’s School of Music to help him expand his knowledge, discover new things, maybe even to help him get a spot in a good music university.

It had been a long-time dream for him, he had even got himself a tedious part-time job during high school so he could somehow manage to pay the exorbitant tuition any decent music school required. He couldn’t handle the thought of putting his parents through that kind of sacrifice. Calum wasn’t that selfish. When he graduated, the first thing he did was count what he had earned for three years of work, and it broke his heart when he found out it wasn’t enough for any of the establishments on his Top 20 Music Schools. Yes, he had been a student in a conservatory in Sydney since he was 6, in which he had individual cello classes and performed with an orchestra, but he always wanted more for himself. The conservatory compared with the places he wanted to go to was at best mediocre. The money he made wouldn't be enough to put him in a good school, so he needed an outside program to earn his way in.

Calum had been a mess during the months after that, even decided he wanted to take a gap year before going to a college he wouldn’t be happy attending. He had got a full-time job to make more money, maybe do something so he could get in a better college. And one day when Calum came home, his parents and his sister, Mali-Koa, were waiting for him in the living room. Mali announced with a big smile she was dropping out of college to pursue a singing career, and asked her parents to take some of the tuition money their parents saved to put her brother in a program in the best music school they could afford. They weren't happy about Mali’s decision but agreed, after a long discussion. Calum couldn't really think of anything that made him that happy. He had hugged his family then, barely containing his tears in his eyes.

It was hard being in Boston, so far away from his family. He missed them terribly although he skyped with them on a daily basis. But he was living his dream and having fun. He even got to fly in an airplane for the first time. But he ended up not liking being stuck in the same place for more than ten hours while being miles above the ground and having to continually pop his ears.

Calum got out of the shower with a towel hanging from his hips when there was a knock on the door. Calum frowned and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. It wasn't normal to have someone knocking at his room so early. He froze in his place and tried not to make a sound in case it was the annoying guy who lived across his dorm. There was several impatient knocks a few seconds later.

“Calum! It’s Luke, please open,” he heard his friend’s nervous voice on the other side. Calum quickly walked to the door and opened it, finding the blond boy outside staring anxiously at him, tapping his foot uneasily on the floor and biting his piercing on the corner of his bottom lip. He looked agitated.

“Can I come in?”.

Calum stepped aside, opened his door wider to let Luke in. The other boy practically darted across the room only to start pacing back and forth quickly. Calum didn't bother putting something on. Although he only knew Luke for seven weeks, he was very at ease with him. Actually, he was the only real friend he made since he got to the school. It had started when Luke offered to help him with his baggage. They hit it off almost immediately, so when Calum was leaving the place where he would live for the following months to get to know the area a little, he decided to ask the tall boy to show him around. He found out he was a full-time student at Berklee’s, was a year older than him and shared a lot of the same interests and music tastes.

Now the memory of a laid-back Luke was fading as Calum followed his friend’s restless movements. He never saw him behaving this way.

“What’s wrong?” Calum asked in a worried tone.

“You gotta be kidding,” he replied. He stared at Calum for a brief moment, eyes widened with indignation, and exclaimed, incredulous, “You don’t know what today is!”

“Today? Today’s Saturday,” Calum joked, but upon seeing his friend’s scowl he cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face, “Sorry. What’s today? Is it important? Wait… Oh god! Is it your birthday? It’s your birthday isn't it, oh god Luke, I’m so sor-”

“Shut up! No, it’s not my birthday,” Luke interrupted, before pausing and exhaling slowly through his nose. He continued, “The mid-year student performance. That’s what today is,” Luke’s tries to hide his nervousness, not really succeeding.

“Shit, that’s today? And you’re performing!” Calum feels like the worst friend, “I’m so sorry, man, I totally forgot about it.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean, not really. I've just been rehearsing my piece for so long I forgot the reason I made it in the first place. I lost track of time. It just hit me two days ago and now look” he gestured to himself, letting out a shaky sigh.

“But you were fine at the welcoming performance, right? On the first day? You didn't look nervous then.”

“That’s because I performed with a whole bunch of other people and I played the piano! We’re talking about my first solo performance playing guitar and singing. Alone. With my guitar. And my voice… oh god, I think I’m gonna throw up-” Calum hold Luke by his shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze.

“Hey, look at me,” Calum asked calmly. Luke obeyed, his icy blue eyes met Calum’s warm chocolate ones. Calum noticed they were watery and starting to become red. “Luke, you’re a guitar god, I’ve honestly never met someone as good as you at playing it. And you sing like a damn siren, you could lure men to their deaths with your voice. You’re going to kill it tonight, I know it! Now calm down and try not to barf in my room, please.”

Luke nodded. Calum gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and started to glide towards the closet to pick the clothes he was going to wear. He heard a heavy sigh from behind him, and wondered if there was something else bothering his friend. Something clicked in his brain. He turned to him with a growing smirk on his face.

“It’s not just the guitar or the singing. He’s gonna be there, isn't he?”

“He?” Luke sounded genuinely confused, but the rush of blood travelling from his neck to his face betrayed him.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know exactly who I’m talking about! The redhead, from year two. What’s his name…?” the brunette boy tapped his lips in thought, “Clifford! Yeah, that’s the one!”

“What!?” Luke’s voice went up a few octaves, an obvious indication he was hiding something, so he gave up the act, “Alright, fine! I’m nervous because he’s going to be there watching. I want him to like me. Fuck, I’m so petty!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not petty! Everybody’s going to like you, it’s impossible not to. He’s going to like you too. If he doesn't then he isn't even worth your time,” Calum said with a supportive smile, earning a grateful one from Luke. He decided then to pick on his friend, “But, wait, why is he going anyway? I thought he wasn't the _outdoorsy_ type? I've never seen him in any of the other school activities, he’s the definition of a couch potato” he said with a grin plastered on his face.

Luke looked at his feet for a bit, bringing his right hand to rub the back of his neck. He answered hesitantly, never looking back at the other boy, “Well, it’s perfectly understandable that he’s going to be there… his best friend is performing.”

Calum’s smirk quickly vanished from his face. He suddenly could feel blazing flames growing and beginning to dance beneath his chest, almost burning him. His brain started to throb, feeling a headache coming. He growled, “Irwin is performing? You can’t be serious! Luke, you know I hate that gu-”

“Oh please don’t do this to me! You’re still coming, aren't you? Please, you can’t not be there. I need you!” Luke’s panic was noticeable in his voice and his face. “Besides, you don’t have to stay there. He’s performing after me so you can leave when I’m done. But you have to go!” the blond boy pouted.

“I thought you had other friends? Can’t they support you? Does it have to be me?” Calum knew he was being unpleasant, but he couldn’t help that his disdain got the best of him.

“None of them are you, though. I've been friends with people that go here for longer than a year, you showed up not even two months ago and already surpassed them. You’re more important... And you should be flattered, by the way! Please, come?” he pleaded with the widest smile Calum had ever seen. Then, Luke repeated what seemed like a thousand times the word ‘please’ in a high pitched voice. Calum felt he had no other choice but to comply.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Luke squealed while jumping with excitement, “You’re the greatest friend I could ever ask for! I wish I had a crush on you instead,” he sighed.

“Me too, buddy. We’d make the best couple…” Calum paused, contemplating the idea of dating his friend, “Let’s skip the crush part and get to what really matters,” Calum joked, waggling his eyebrows.

The two boys simultaneously started laughing, embracing in a tight hug.

“Thanks, man. You helped me a lot. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. But now I have to go, or else I won’t have a practice room available,” Luke said as he freed himself from the hug, rapidly moving towards the door. “I’ll see you later!” he said lastly, his mouth widened in a smile and his tongue peeking through his teeth, before he shut the door behind him.

 

 _Fuck_ , Calum thought. His plans to spend the afternoon in a practice room playing his cello were ruined. He couldn't - he wouldn't - practice in his dorm because he didn't like the acoustics of it, the notes didn't sound clean. He was a bit picky with the places he practiced, since he was very young. Whenever he wasn't at school or working, he spent most of his time in a tiny room in the conservatory, just him and his cello. It wasn’t surprising that he only had two friends back home, one of them being his sister. Also, he was a bit shy. Making new friends or talking to people who weren't close to him was challenging for him.

There were a few occasions in which Calum overcame his shyness. In sophomore year, when Calum had gathered all the courage he could get to ask his crush on a date, and later on that date, when he kissed the boy and asked him to be his boyfriend, a relationship that would last one happy year and six unbearable months. Another moment was on the first week in the summer program, when the other students threw a party and invited everyone in the program to go. This boy, Tyler, took an interest in Calum and kept buying him drinks throughout the night. He drank until he saw the room spinning. The only thing he remembered from that night was dancing with Tyler, the intense cigarette smoke cloud revolving around them and its stench. He must have done a lot more though, because the next day at campus, some people came up to him to say hi and start a conversation, others just snickered or giggled as he passed by. Calum preferred not to know. The only other times he wasn't shy was whenever he put Ashton Irwin in his place every time he started getting smart with him.

Ashton Irwin was a problem. To say him and Calum didn't get along was an understatement. Calum would grumble and grow sour every time he saw Ashton or whenever his name was mentioned. He couldn’t stand the guy. It wasn’t his fault, though, this mutual hate between them.

 

It started on the first day of the program, the day after the dark haired boy had arrived. The program students were having a tour around the school to get to know the spaces they would occupy for almost the entirety of the next three months.

Calum was in absolute awe. He still couldn't believe what was really happening, that he was really there, taking in every detail of the place. He had gotten a little distracted and furthered himself away from the group, keeping his eyes everywhere except on the floor. That was when his foot got caught on something that made him trip. It all happened very quickly and when Calum opened his eyes again he was just a few inches above the floor. Fortunately, his arms were quick enough to hold him up, preventing his face from hitting the granite floor.

He stood up on his feet, a blushing mess, looking in every direction to check if anyone had seen him. He spotted a boy with an angry expression on his face walking at a fast pace in his direction. _‘What the hell is wrong with you?!’_ were the first words Ashton had directed - shouted - to Calum. Then he was in front of the brunette boy, continuing to yell at him while waving his arms aggressively. A million thoughts ran through his mind, not really focusing on what the other boy was saying. He remembered his big hazel eyes widened in fury and his permanent scowl. He looked between him and the floor, where there were some black round-shaped cases. Calum discovered the other boy was performing at night, in the event the school had prepared to welcome the program students. He had begun panicking when he realized he had almost destroyed the other boy’s instrument, so he started babbling apologies, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. But Ashton just ignored him, waving him off and telling him to go away.

Later that night, after the performance, Calum had tried apologizing to the curly haired boy again. He thought maybe the other boy had been nervous earlier because he was performing so maybe he was calmer by then. But when the younger boy found him and talked to him, he just ignored. Calum didn't give up, didn't want Ashton to hate him. So he told him for the fiftieth time how sorry he was and how well he had played the drums.

The older boy had looked at Calum, squinting his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed, replying, _‘What did you expect? I actually go to this school, deserved my spot here. And you should know, sucking up doesn't earn you any credits,’_ he turned on his heels, a forced sarcastic smile on his face, and started to walk away.

Calum became furious, his whole body getting uncomfortably hot with rage until he couldn’t hold it anymore. He raised his voice so Ashton could hear him, _‘I was trying to be nice! I felt bad for what happened. You just had to accept my apology, maybe not be a dick about it, and I would gladly leave you alone for good. But now I’m glad I nearly squished your drums. Maybe it’ll teach you to not leave your instrument unattended in the middle of a public place,’_ he breathed heavily after he finished. Ashton had stopped in his tracks for awhile, but kept his back turned to Calum. After a few seconds he started pacing again, towards the exit. Calum went home.

 

After that, Calum and Ashton had only exchanged resentful stares and occasional snarky comments. Nothing too serious. He tried to remain indifferent to him, but the younger boy couldn't help but feel his blood boil at the sight of Ashton. Everything he did or say was one more reason for Calum to despise him.

Luke told him the older boy was very well liked around Berklee, by teachers and students, and he was generally a really nice guy, although he didn’t know him that well. Calum just scoffed at this, said it was all a mask. He couldn't be that nice when he had treated Calum like crap. Apparently only he could see how awful Ashton was. He still cursed at himself for feeling his chest flutter when he saw the drummer perform back in that first night. Now he only felt his scowl deepening every time he saw the boy.

 

Calum finished dressing and went on with his day.

 

***

 

It was 8pm. Calum was sitting in the second row of the auditorium the event was taking place. It would only start at 9pm, but Luke made sure to nag Calum, actually fill his inbox with texts ordering him to show up early so he could get a good seat.

The auditorium was a small room, it only had about two-hundred-something seats and very little space to standing audience. Calum’s glad he didn't ignore Luke, because people were coming at a fast pace.

Fifteen minutes after he had sat the place was packed, security even had to send a lot of people home. There were people sitting everywhere on the floor and Calum lowly growled. It was impossible to get up and leave without having to step on a few people or to have people looking at him judgmentally for blocking their view to the stage, which meant that he would end up watching his arch-enemy perform. He pulled his cellphone out of his black skinny jean’s pocket and opened the message app.

 

 

> **To: Luke**
> 
> _im trapped here in the middle, i cant go anywhere >:(_

 

Calum put away his phone. He looked around the room with attentive eyes, trying to spot someone he knew. He didn't know anyone who was near him and still had to wait more than half an hour for the show to start. He certainly was not going to make awkward small talk with the people next to him.

He was finishing scanning the room, when he recognized the vibrant red hair at the end of the same row as him. Calum rarely got to see Michael, but he hadn't changed since last time he saw him. He was still pale, wearing his famous denim jacket, talking loudly to the brunette girl sitting next to him. Like Luke had sensed this, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

 

 

> **From: Luke**
> 
> _im srry pal :( just take a nap after i leave the stage or smth_
> 
> _hey, since ure staying, u think u can wait for me to go home? pls?? ly_

 

 

> **To: Luke**
> 
> _sure_

 

Calum grumbled internally. He didn't think he was ready for what was coming. He loved music more than anything in the world. He was really excited to watch his friend sweep the audience off their feet with his performance, but he wouldn't manage to ignore the person he despised for more than one minute. Because, no matter how hard Calum tried to overlook it, Ashton was extraordinarily talented in jazz drumming. He was born for it. Calum had witnessed it a few times while strolling past the classrooms, the practice rooms, even outside the school, at the park near it, where there were jam sessions and he was just simply sitting and tapping his _cajón_.

 

Calum got lost in his thoughts, which seemed to help the time pass because the lights were already dimming, there was a spotlight in the middle of the stage and a blond girl donning a simple black dress walking towards it. She didn’t say much, just greeted the audience and promptly announced the first act.

The performances of the first part of the show ranged from slow classical numbers and sad ballads to fast-rhythm pop-rock songs and cheesy duets. Calum was actually enjoying himself. After a short break, the second part began with the presenter welcoming Luke to the stage.

He strode nervously to the center of the stage with the guitar already strapped to his body, his hand gripping the fret-board tightly. He placed himself in front of the mic and leaned into it, his eyes examining the room.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Luke and I’m gonna be singing and playing the acoustic guitar for you tonight. This is an original, it’s called ‘Stand’. But I’d prefer if you did that only when I’m finished,” the audience laughed softly and Calum saw his friend’s face light up, “I’m kidding, you don’t have to do it… Unless you want to,” another laugh. Luke chuckled, a proud look on his face. He finally found Calum amongst the crowd, who gave him a encouraging wink and a thumbs up. Luke beamed at him and took a deep breath. He started playing the first chords.

 

The blond boy was doing great. His song was a masterpiece that would make Ed Sheeran cry with envy while clenching his fist at the sky. Everyone could feel the emotions in the lyrics, in the strum of his guitar, in the sound of his voice, making the moment more intimate. Calum glanced at Michael, studying his reaction. He seemed completely lost in Luke and in his song. His mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes shining with amazement and Calum’s mouth spread into a sweet smile. He couldn't wait to spill all of this to the tall boy later.

Luke’s performance ended with a strong applause and a few whistles (including Calum’s) from the audience. He bowed and waved his hand to them until he was off the stage, wearing the biggest satisfied smile on his face.

The presenter returned, clapping her hands like she had done after all the other acts and lifted the mic to her lips, “Stunning performance by Luke Hemmings. Next, we have a jazz drummer from year two, Ashton Irwin. Enjoy it,” she rapidly left the stage.

On the other side of it, Ashton and a couple of people pulled the platform where his drums sat to the middle of the stage. Calum instantly felt his skin growing uncomfortably warmer at the sight of him. He heard the older boy whisper thank you’s to the other two as they walked backstage. Ashton perched on the drum bench, pulling the microphone to his rest in front of his mouth.

“Hello everybody,” his voice matched his delighted expression, much more confident than Luke’s had been minutes ago, “My name’s Ashton and I’m gonna be playing a piece I made specially for this show. For you. I might use it in my finals or auditions but, you know, kinda still counts” everyone laughed except for Calum, who rolled his eyes.

He couldn't believe this guy. All he had to do was flash his white teeth and he would have anyone at the palm of his hand. Calum didn't fall for it. He would never fall for it.

The drummer looked around the room, still beaming at the public’s reaction and then his eyes met Calum's unimpressed expression. The curly haired boy stopped smiling, still looking at him, but he didn't appear expressionless. His mouth was relaxed, but he had this glint in his eyes that younger boy read as smugness. Calum felt alerted. It felt like his stomach ceased to digest his dinner, but he tried to appear indifferent. He swallowed thick involuntarily and hoped his "nemesis" didn't notice it. It angered Calum that Ashton had this effect on him. He wished right there and then the other boy didn't exist at all.

Ashton finally broke eye contact, reaching for the drumsticks. Calum noticed how the last person the other boy looked at before starting to step the drum pedal was him. He mentally slapped himself for noticing it.

It was bad. It was really, really bad.

Ashton’s was one full minute into his performance and Calum desperately needed to get out of there. His attempts of disregard and of closing his eyes to try and imagine someone else playing were very ineffective. Ashton’s drumming was so enticing, impossible for Calum to ignore it or shut his eyes. After he gave up on not watching the drummer, he only found it out to be an even worse decision.

Ashton had this focused look on his face, his eyebrows lowered, his head nodding to the rhythm he was setting, his mouth slack and his eyes never leaving his instrument.

The act had begun slow and charming, and then Ashton started picking up the pace. He was now banging his drums into a crescendo effect, making everyone in the crowd hold their breaths in astonishment. Even Calum got caught in the addictive sound coming from the stage, he couldn’t get enough and he couldn’t look away. He gave himself another mental slap, begging his body to fight back whatever he was feeling. His head started pounding as mercilessly as Ashton was drumming. The latter continued his shockingly fast rhythm, the sounds reverberating through the auditory and he then reached the peak of his banging, ceasing his movements completely.

This was just a pause lasting a few seconds for the mere purpose of suspense. Calum swore he heard everyone in that room let out the breath they were all holding in. This pause seemed to have lasted an eternity in Calum’s head. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy that was on stage, who let his head fall back.

Calum could see Ashton’s eyes closing and his adam’s apple bob. He was shining with a thin layer of sweat, drips of it travelling along his pretty neck, and the younger boy pictured himself licking it hungrily. Another mental slap. He was going crazy. These feelings and visions of the boy he hated were everything Calum stood against. He shut his jaw tight and clenched it when he acknowledged his open mouth. _Slap_. He didn’t understand why this was happening and he prayed nobody was noticing his involuntary reactions.

Ashton returned to drumming at a quick pace, approaching the end of his performance. The red bandana barely contained his unruly curls that insisted in bouncing in every direction. His black tank top was damp, clinging to his torso, and his muscular arms clenching from the brutal force he was hitting the drums. Calum fixed his gaze in all of this, the sound was beginning to muffle as he began feeling his mouth water. _Slap_.

He needed it to stop. He felt seconds away from exploding, and he could no longer stay there. That was when he heard the last bang coming from Ashton’s drums.

As expected, a roar erupted from the crow, some people even got up to applaud the drummer. Calum wasn’t clapping, which made the audience’s cheers even more deafening to his ears. He looked to his right and saw Michael stand up, whistling and yelling compliments at his best friend, even though he probably couldn’t hear it.

Ashton’s gaze met Calum’s disapproving expression once again. Calum didn’t understand why the older boy was looking at him for the second time in less than six minutes. Only he did. He did understand. Ashton was wearing a victorious grin that made him feel like he had lava melting in his belly. Calum tried to convince himself the gasp he hold in his throat was out of disgust and the raised hairs and goosebumps on his arms were because of a draft that inexplicably penetrated through the closed doors.

The rest of the event went smoothly, but Calum didn’t know for sure because he spent that time thinking about what had happened in those six minutes after Luke’s performance or trying to sweep away these thoughts, which only made him think about it more. It was torture to him. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

When the ceremony ended, Calum fought hard not to spring up from his seat and race to the exit. He still had to wait for Luke, who appeared ten minutes later with the smile he had when he left the stage still plastered on his face. The brunette boy wanted to show his friend how proud he was for him, but only a forced smile came through.

They walked home together. Luke couldn’t stop talking. Calum didn’t say a word.

***

It had been five days since that agonizing night at the auditory. Calum hadn’t mentioned any details of it to Luke, except that he witnessed Michael Clifford’s total awe during the blond boy’s act. Luke had let out a tiny shriek and an ecstatic _‘Are you serious?’_ before covering his eyes with his pale hands and starting to bounce where he stood. _How middle-school of him_ , Calum had thought with an adoring smile on his face.

During the week, Calum busied himself, going to class, hanging out with other students, composing an original piece to play in his cello and pushing his limits while playing it, everything he could do to occupy the time, so he wouldn’t think of what he had memorized from that night. Which only led him to think about it, about Ashton banging at his drums roughly, his tanned skin glowing from all the sweat and his muscles tightening from the strenght he used. One night, when he was alone in his dorm room, he couldn’t help but fantasize Ashton being equally as rough and sweaty with him while pinning him down on his bed and fucking him. He had shaken his head violently to wipe the explicit images in his mind and he had ignored his fattening cock beneath his boxers, diverting his attention to his charts instead.

He was leaving the school building where he just had a class on ear training, a class Calum was pretty sure it was as useless as trying to train a street cat. He recognized almost every note and tone that came out of other instruments, so surely he would know what a C minor sounded like coming from his cello, probably better than his sixty-year-old teacher on his way to get hearing aids would.

He was now strolling to the park near the school, where students normally gathered to play and sing together in jam sessions. The brunette boy entered the the park, walking between two rows of neatly trimmed bushes, the cast shadow of the tall leafy trees cooling him from the humid hot weather.

He wandered around the park, trying to find someone he knew to hang out with, preferably Luke, but no sign of anyone there. Calum kept walking, crossing paths with an acappella group working on their harmonies, with a group of lively violin players, even with a guy playing guitar, who was ironically (he hoped) singing “Wonderwall” to a large crowd going along. Then he heard someone call his name.

“Hey, Calum” the shout came from the right and his eyes followed it. From a distance he saw a bright red mop of hair belonging to Michael Clifford, who was energetically waving his pale arm at him. With him were about five more people, including Ashton whose gaze was facing his way attentively. “Come jam with us!”

Calum hesitated for a few seconds, begging for someone he knew to show up and rescue him from joining Ashton’s group. He contemplated lying. He could just say he was meeting other people there. But Michael’s eager look and Ashton’s judgy stare made him reconsider. He began stepping their way, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

He had participated in a jam session with Ashton once before. The older boy had scanned him up and down and told him to _‘watch his step’_ before he could join them. He was to nervous, too many people were looking at him, waiting for him to start playing so they could make snarky comments and sneer at him. This time it was the perfect chance to show them where he standed, show them the amazing things he could do with his cello. He wanted to show the boy he despised how good he was and make his jaw drop like he had done to Calum when he played the drums.

When he reached them, he said hi, returning the kind and warm smile Michael was giving him. He was confused to why he asked him to join them. Calum had never spoken to Michael, only receiving apologetic looks whenever Ashton decided to be a jerk to him. He wondered if this had anything to do with Michael’s apparent infatuation with Luke. They were all sitting down in benches, except for Ashton who sat in his _cajón_. The latter didn’t tilt his head up to welcome him like the others did. He just gave him a quick uninterested glance from under his lashes, a slight scowl marking his expression.

“So glad I finally caught you with your cello! I’ve been wanting to hear you play a while,” Michael confessed and agreeing nods and sounds from his friends (except from Ashton) followed.

“You have?” Calum questioned with suspicion.

“Of course! I mean, I keep hearing praises from other program students so naturally I’m curious. Sit,” he finished, more of a request than an order, pointing at the bench between him and his best friend.

Calum would rather not sit next to Ashton, but he gathered he could better observe his dumb reaction to his talent from closer, so he perched himself on the bench. He opened the case that hold his cello and bow and picked them up.

“So Ashton’s gonna go first, he’s gonna set the rhythm, then Dylan with the keyboard, then I enter with the guitar and so on. I’m sure you know all of this already.” Michael said to the others before turning to Calum, “Just, make yourself comfortable and join us whenever you’re ready. I know it’s a bit tricky incorporating a cello in a improv song so don’t feel pressured,” the red headed boy assured Calum. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Michael was catering to him, trying to impress him, but he appreciated the gesture anyway.

Michael turned to Ashton and nodded at him, signaling he could start. He counted till four and began tapping his _cajón_ , experimenting with different beats until he settled for a quick one. Calum felt the curly headed boy was purposefully making it harder for him to join them, since traditionally the cello was used in slow songs. A few seconds later he heard Dylan join in with a catchy tune. Calum was looking at ground, concentrating on the beat, tapping his foot and bobbing his head to the rhythm, trying to figure out what he could play. He held the fret of his cello and the bow in position.

Everyone in the group had already joined in, laughing, singing and smiling, very satisfied how the the song was coming out. Calum hadn’t moved, still figuring out the perfect sounds to add the song. Ashton was side-eyeing him, probably leering, expecting Calum to flop and be embarrassed about it. But this only fed Calum’s disdain, actually inspiring him to join the rest.

Calum straightened his back a little, attracting the gazes of the people surrounding him. He positioned his fingers on the strings on the fret-board and finally slid the bow along them. He played according to the rhythm, harmonizing with the other instruments and the voices, and then feeling relieved when the others reacted positively to his addition. The song went smoothly until its very end, when Ashton ceased his tapping, a small frown framing his expression which was quickly replaced by an enthusiastic smile. _I guess this is when he puts on the “nice boy” act_ , Calum thought.

“Great job, guys! That was amazing! Probably one of the best impromptus we’ve had. Meera, your voice was absolute magic in this,” he said, winking at the girl with the short hair behind Calum, who thanked him and blew him a kiss.

“I’m really, really happy with how this turned out. But I gotta say… Wow, Calum, they weren’t lying, you’re a prodigy. That was awesome!” Michael exclaimed.

“Yeah, dude. I haven’t seen someone playing the cello like that in a while. And that was improvised! I’m really impressed,” Dylan agreed.

Calum couldn’t help but let out a shy ‘thanks’ and a smile.

“Talk about exaggeration,” Ashton murmured behind him, but still loud enough that everyone heard.

Calum turned to older boy, who was reaching for his backpack for a piece of gum.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Calum replied between his teeth, his jaw tight and his nostrils flared.

Of course Ashton wouldn’t let this be the least bit enjoyable for him. He ruined every chance of Calum having fun. He could already feel his skin rattle with irritation.

“Ashton, you can’t be serious,” Michael said incredulously, staring at Ashton with his eyes widened. He turned to Calum chuckling nervously, “He’s just kidding, he doesn’t mean that,” then he looked back at his friend and talked in a warning tone, “Isn’t that right, Ashton?”

Ashton eyed Michael, clenching his jaw and pressing his lips into a thin line. They kept staring at each other, busy with what seemed like a telepathic conversation only involving exaggerated looks and eyebrow movements. Calum thought it was pretty pathetic. He wasn’t dumb. Michael was trying to get to his friend by charming him, and if he left upset from that experience, chances would be that he would talk badly about him to Luke, who wouldn’t be impressed. And Michael apparently wasn’t risking it.

Ashton made a face at Michael that looked like an exasperated _‘fine’_ , glanced quickly at Calum and looking away immediately after, staring at nothing.

He sighed, defeated, “He’s not bad, I guess.”

“Well that’s enough for me. I mean... coming from Ashton that’s a lot. The best of compliments, really,” Michael said to everyone with a forced awkward laugh. He turned to Calum, “What did you think of the mid-term performance, Calum?”

“I liked it a lot, I’m glad I went,” he lied. He liked it for the most part, and he wasn’t that glad he went for the obvious reasons.

“Your friend... Luke, is it? He was really good, I didn’t know he could sing and play the guitar like that. It’s really impressive seeing a Year One performing solo,” Michael’s attempt of seeming non-challant was hopeless. Calum could see right through him, could see a blink in his eyes when he talked about his blond friend.

“Yeah, I was really happy for him, he did amazing.”

“But I think Ashton really took it to another level, he had the best act. Right next to you, Meera!”, he quickly added, and the girl, who had also performed, stuck his tongue at him. “What’d you think of him, though?”

Calum tried to remain un-bothered by the question, never ceasing to show his best side, and answered like it didn’t matter to him, “Was alright.”

“Alright? You seemed really into it,” Michael answered with a chuckle and knowing smirk. Ashton growled _‘Michael’_ in a threatening tone, but it was ignored.

Calum became alert for a moment, a blush threatening to swell his face, scared that Michael had somehow read his thoughts that night, that he noticed the slack jaw and the clenched fists. But he continued to play it cool.

“It was nice to hear, but I really value when people are humble. That’s why I like Luke so much and why…”, he didn’t finish. Everyone knew what he meant.

The silence that came after was uncomfortable, so Michael changed the subject.

“Do you have anything yours? Like, have you composed something, for your cello?”

“Not really, not good ones anyway” he wasn’t completely lying. He had composed half-assed charts back home, but only when he got to Boston he became inspired to get serious about composing a piece which was nearly finished.

“Of course,” Ashton scoffed.

“What’s your fucking problem, man?” Calum snapped at him, turning abruptly in his direction.

“You know what my fucking problem is,” Ashton said harshly, still keeping his volume.

The look he and Calum shared was long, full of despise. It wasn’t hard to see the hatred that seeped through both of them, it was obvious by their tense muscles, their furrowed eyebrows and slightly squinted eyes. Calum began grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw. He wanted to leave, he didn’t think he could stand one more minute next to such a jerk. But he knew a better solution.

“Actually, I do have an original piece. It’s not finished yet but I feel pretty damn good about it. I think I’m gonna play it now,” Calum said in a confident tone.

“Great, can’t wait to hear this,” Ashton replied in a sarcastic tone. He was smiling at Calum, a bit maliciously, like he just dared Calum to strip naked in the middle of the park.

Calum didn’t understand why Ashton smiled at him. He had been given a similar smile after he performed a last Saturday. It was a challenging smile, still carrying hatred, maybe to lower Calum’s confidence. It wasn’t going to work.

He practiced this over a thousand times. It was his piece. He knew back and forth even though it wasn’t fully ready. Calum wasn’t planning on showing it to anyone so soon, much less to a group of people he barely knew and especially not in front of the person he disliked the most. Nonetheless, he positioned the cello in front of him and started playing. He felt Ashton’s stare burning a hole on the side of his skull.

He didn’t think he was ever this focused as he was playing his cello now, not even at evaluations in the conservatory back home, not even when he played to the teachers in Berklee. He didn’t understand why he felt such a need to prove himself to someone he didn’t care and never really thought about until last week, and even then he resented him for it.

A thin layer of sweat began to form in his hairline. He hadn’t been this nervous in a long time, but at the same time he never felt more alive. He could feel the adrenaline flow in his veins, the electricity rippling in his nerves, and his skin, and his bones. This was such a bittersweet moment and Calum hoped it would feel like this every time he played.

He stopped playing. He glued his eyes to his cello for a few seconds before raising them to look at the people beside them. He only wished he hadn’t ended abruptly, but there were no more notes to play. He still was feeling really good about it.

They were all staring at him, wide eyes and wide mouths. He took a look at all of them, archiving each one of their reactions so he could remember later and feel good about himself. Even Ashton seemed appalled by what he just heard. His lips were parted, but not a word came out of him.

Michael spoke for everyone, instead.

“Holy shit.”

***

Calum slept like a freaking baby. The images of what happened the day before were still playing in his head on a continuous loop. He couldn’t help it, his ego was boosted every time he remembered Ashton’s stupid face upon hearing him playing. He remembered the others too, of course. It wasn’t like he was more concerned with what Ashton thought of him. If the previous day did anything for him, it was to think of Ashton with a more indifferent posture. A little. He still wanted to take Ashton’s used sweat bands and shove them in the drummer’s mouth, or put some kind of itchy powder in his shoes so he walks funny for a few days, or maybe soak all his underwear with hot sauce.

Right now, he was in one of the practice rooms at the school, playing the pieces some of the teachers had given him and struggling with ending his own piece. He was having trouble with this last one so he gave up on that for a while and moved on to rehearse the assigned works.

One of his favorite things about being in the program was the time he got to spend in these rooms, alone with his cello, hearing all the pretty sounds he played and smiling to himself. After each of the songs, Calum would look outside for a few seconds. And then he would look around the room, observing the way the sunlight illuminated it and the tiny dust particles landing on every surface, still taking in the fact that he was here. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had a lot to thank his sister for.

After a full hour in that room, while in the middle of a song, he heard the door open. When he faced the entrance’s way, he saw several people coming in. He questioned himself what did he do so wrong in the past to deserve this, because among those people was Ashton, now standing facing his way, his arms crossed and his chin slightly tilted up.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Calum indignantly asked while placing down his instrument in the case.

“Hour’s over. Beat it,” Ashton answered dryly, not really paying attention as he gestured directions at the people who came in with him.

“I reserved this room for three hours, so you beat it,” Calum snapped.

“Right. We booked this room to 4pm. And I have six more people backing me up on this, so I’m pretty sure that’s bullshit,” Ashton accused in a annoying smug tone.

“No. I booked this room from 3 till 6, you can check with Mr. Harley,” Mr. Harley was a fifty-year-old man mainly responsible for classrooms in general. Apparently he wasn’t doing his only job very well. Calum couldn’t give that room up. He was pretty sure all the other practice rooms were occupied by now.

“We’re not gonna check anything, this room is ours for the next two hours,” Ashton replied. He was getting to Calum’s nerves, purposefully ruining his perfect day. He was already biting the inside of his cheeks, “Look, I don’t care what you say. We’re staying.”

“I’m not leaving,” Calum declared, hardly trying to contain the rage he was already feeling cooking up in his stomach. “You’re even missing a bunch of people. There’s seven people here and your group has, what, fifty people?”

“We’re twenty five, but nice try,” one of the girls of the band added.

“What are you going to do, trying to stop twenty five people from practicing?” Ashton returned to him, “And this is one of biggest rooms, it’s more useful for us than to one person. A program student, for that matter. Why do you think you’re so entitled? Like you’re real students here!”

“I paid to be here, I have the same rights to use what the school offers me as much as any of you do,” Calum replied. He had already got up at this point, staring at Ashton at the same level.

The older boy let a out a loud laugh, throwing his head back, “Please! Look, if you want a place to practice so much, go to somewhere smaller in the first place, don’t come to rooms that take up orchestras, you know their practices are above solo practices concerning priorities. And hey!, the bathrooms have great acoustics, you could always go there.”

His smirk grew as he continued talking, like what he was saying was the funniest thing to him.

There was nothing Calum could do, and that made him so angry. Stupid Mr. Harley. What made it worse is that he couldn’t think of something to shut Ashton up. He had already lost this fight, and he needed to get away from him before he exploded. He picked up his things and burst out of the room, slamming the door on his way out.

He immediately went to Mr. Harley’s desk to complain about the whole situation, but when he got there and mentioned what happened he felt sorry when he saw that the man sincerely felt terrible for everything. He managed to book another room forty-five minutes from then.

He took this break to eat something and grumble internally about Ashton Irwin. God, he hated that guy so much. The nerve he had, and Calum had never done nothing wrong to him, besides almost crushing his drums on his first day there. But he had tried to apologize and Ashton was the one rejecting it very rudely. He wasn’t to blame. He just tagged along.

He didn’t understand how everyone liked him so much. Yes, he seemed - played - nice to the others, but how could anyone buy that when he had been such a dick to Calum without even knowing him? How fake did someone have to be?

The younger boy tried not to remember how happy and gentle Ashton had appeared when he showed the school to his family a couple weeks back. He tried not to remember him ruffling his little brother’s hair, bumping his hips playfully with his sister or hugging his mother long and tight several times. Calum knew the older boy’s problem was just him, but it was a lot easier to think of Ashton as a bad person. And the fact that he wasn’t only worsened Calum’s frustration and overall disdain for the other boy.

He finally headed to the practice room. He opened the old oak door and entered the room. It was much smaller than the one he was before, it probably couldn’t hold up to more than fifteen people with instruments. Calum decided he liked this room better. He liked the way the sun hit the wooden floors and the two rows of tiny cushioned benches. He sat on the back row and didn’t waste more time. He got his cello, bow and musical charts out and started playing.

It had been one hour and Calum was sick and done with playing his teacher’s charts. He decided to play his own, hopefully more inspired by now to finish composing it.

He went over it one, two, three times but as he reached the point he’d gotten his mind went blank. He let out a frustrated groan and started over again.

He was almost getting there again, more confident something would come up to his brain by the seconds. He could almost feel it build it up in his chest, he could feel the notes that would follow. He was almost there, when he heard a knock on the door.

He groaned again, much louder this time. “What?!”, he spat.

The door opened, and a mop of dirty blond curls appeared behind it, peeking at him through the narrow opening. This couldn’t be true.

““You have to be kidding me,” he scoffed unpleasantly.

Someone was playing with him, placed a curse on him or something. Because now he was alone, in a practice room, with the person he disliked the most, who just interrupted what could’ve been the developing of the best cello song ever created.

Ashton widened the door to let himself in. His movements appeared calculated, his eyes locking cautiously with Calum’s before he let them fall to the ground while rubbing his neck.

“Listen... I just came to apologize,” his eyes never met Calum’s.

The younger boy chuckled, “Right.”

“I am. I was a bit of a jerk back there-”

“A _bit_?” Calum interrupted with another chuckle, almost yelling the word “bit”.

Ashton lifted his head to look at Calum again. There was a pause. A very tense one. Ashton’s hazel eyes were wide and he sighed, but said nothing after. Even Calum, who liked silencing Ashton, was begging for him to break it.

“Look, I didn’t handle the situation well. After practice I went to Mr. Harley and he told me about his mistake. I felt like I owed you an apology,” Ashton was slowly pacing across the room, towards Calum, only to stop just a few steps from him.

“Did Michael put you up to this?” Calum asked.

Nothing about this seemed real. Why was Ashton apologizing to him when he had never given a crap about him? What was in it for him?

“What? No! I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” his eyes appeared sincere, but Calum would never fall for it. He knew better than that.

“Wow, _déjà vu_ ,” Calum murmured.

“What?” the older boy squinted his eyes.

“This reminds me when I apologized to you and you basically told me to fuck off. But how the roles have switched!” he crossed his arms, stood up in attempt to make himself look bigger. He continued, “I’m seconds away from sending you out of my room and tell you to leave me the fuck alone, but I’m curious... how did you even find me? How did you know I was here?”

He had the upper hand now. He had Ashton on the palm of his hand and he was going to squish him like a bug. Maybe it was meant to be a good day after all.

Calum had his chin tilted up, smugly staring at Ashton. He wanted to enjoy this moment.He was going to take advantage of it the best he could. This was too good to let go so quickly.

“Erm… I… p-put my ear near the doors to hear and when I got to this one I recognized your song, so… yeah,” Ashton replied.

Calum’s smirk died on his lips. He couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. Firstly, did Ashton really just stutter? Calum swore he saw his cheeks tinted a light pink when he spoke. And did he really just say that he recognized his song? There was so many thoughts and questions in his head he couldn’t think straight. Nonetheless he maintained his cold and unimpressed expression.

“And what exactly makes you think I’m accepting your apology? You didn’t even bother to listen when it was me in your spot. What made you think you would come here and I would be like ‘oh, it’s okay man! Water under the bridge, my friend’ and go eat chicken nuggets with you afterwards?” Calum’s voice was filled with sarcasm. He could see Ashton’s nostrils flaring already, his jaw clenching hard.

The look he was giving the younger boy was no longer hesitant and regretful. Suddenly Calum couldn’t read him anymore.

“I only came here to apologize. I don’t really care what you have to say,” Ashton said in a calm tone.

And well, that caught Calum by surprise, but he still rolled his eyes. Just a minute ago the dirty-blond boy seemed too embarrassed to even form a decent sentence without choking on his words and now his arms were crossed in his chest just like his and the look they shared felt heavier and volatile.

“Of course. You only ever care about yourself and whatever you need to convince you and others you’re a nice person,” Calum accused, his heart beating a little faster on his chest.

Ashton laughed as he stepped closer to Calum, “You think you actually know me.”

“Fortunately, I don’t. But I can see right through you,” Calum squinted his eyes.

It wasn’t true. He knew Ashton’s was a good person. But Calum would much rather see the boy he hated as a bad person than as a good person who only hated him.

He added, “But I get it, you need to somehow get people to support your second-rate drumming.”

It was a blatant lie. Ashton happened to be a fantastic drummer, yet Calum couldn’t afford complimenting him. What he wanted was to hurt the other boy in the most ruthless way possible. But now that he said it he wondered if he should have said it at all. His felt his chest tighten when he said it, felt his brain throbbing so hard he couldn’t hear himself breathe. Even if it was directed at Ashton, he regretted saying it. He shouldn’t feel bad, but he did, and that made him even more angry. It messed him up so badly that he was sure his confident posture faltered for a few seconds, almost making it obvious that he didn’t think what he said was true.

Ashton didn’t break eye contact. He continued staring at Calum and then the corners of his mouth curled up. The brunette boy was confused for a second, but he realized after it was a scornful smile. _Shit_.

“That’s funny. Because according to Michael, you seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a lot, last Saturday,” Ashton said.

Calum’s heart skipped a beat. In that moment he was sure all the blood in his body went to his face, because his knees trembled and his head was heavy. _Fucking Michael_. Where was Ashton going with this, anyway. Why was he bringing it up? What was he taking from it? He needed to end this before it got out of control, but Ashton got ahead of him.

“I saw the look on your face after my performance. And even if you thought I was bad, I couldn’t care less about your opinion,” Ashton got closer as he spoke, like he was challenging the younger boy to snap.

“If you had any active brain cells left, you would recognize disdain and lack of interest when you saw it. But you’re that egotistical. You like to think you have anyone at your favor, but I’d advise you to think again,” Calum exclaimed.

“I’m not the one who got here thinking I owned every square meter of the school! You think you’re better than anyone in this place and you’re mad because you know you don’t matter,” Ashton uncrossed his arms, like he was getting ready to attack. The brunette boy mirrored him. They were separated by only a foot or two now, Calum was so caught up in his wrath he couldn’t know for sure. The older boy’s eyes were dark, only a thin ring of hazel visible from where Calum was standing.

“You’re a dick!” Calum raised his voice.

His skin was hot. It was unbelievable the effect this guy had on him.

“You’re a self-entitled spoiled little brat with a superiority complex,” Ashton made his voice louder.

“You’re a two-faced Buddy Rich wannabe wanker,” Calum shouted back.

Ashton groaned before grabbing Calum’s wrists with his hands, with enough strength that Calum could barely move them. Their faces were very close now. His heart was beating impossibly fast.

“Is that the best you got?!” Ashton’s voice went down a few octaves, much softer than it had been a second ago.

“Let go!” he demanded, fighting to free his arms.

Silence. Ashton said nothing more, just kept on holding Calum’s wrists, tighter and tighter as Calum still battled his arrest, and was staring at him, a calm expression and a barely there grin.

Calum’s head was a mess. He couldn’t hear himself think. His cheeks burned hotter by the second. He studied Ashton’s eyes in search of an explanation for what was happening but was unsuccessful. He had never been more dazed in his life. He didn’t know when he stopped struggling, but his arms were now limp in the drummer’s hands.

Ashton began walking, softly pushing Calum until his back hit the wall, pinning his hands down as well. His hands were still wrapped around Calum’s wrists, but his grip softened, and he guided them up until they were resting at each side of his head.

Neither of them were doing anything besides listening to their heavy breaths and their blood pumping furiously in their veins. Their eyes were frantic, glancing between each other’s eyes and lips. They stood there for awhile and nothing happened.

Calum realized Ashton was waiting for something. His widened eyes scanned the brunette’s face, like he was looking for an answer. His eyes questioning if he wanted this as much as he did. Everything happened so fast, he didn’t know exactly how they got here. Calum was startled and also shocked to find that he wanted this. A lot.

So he decided to make a move. He took a last glance between Ashton’s eyes and his parting lips before going for it. But as soon as he tilted his head forward just a few millimeters, Ashton’s mouth crashed against his, so hard he felt it in his front teeth, which caused a complaining noise erupt from his throat. Ashton broke the kiss, giggling.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I got a little excited,” he said with his breath caught in his throat.

He must have been dreaming. He just kissed the person he hated the most and liked it, even though it made his head bump the wall with such force. And Ashton apologized with an adorable red flush on his cheeks and a charming smirk. Calum thought it was cute. Ashton was cute. But he pushed these thoughts to the back of his head.

Ashton closed their distance again and pressed his lips to Calum’s. He sighed softly, like he had been holding his breath. The kiss was more gentle this time, but not less hungry or eager. Their lips moved in sync, Calum smiling into the kiss, completely intoxicated with the taste of Ashton’s lips. They were warm and a just a little bit chapped.

Ashton slowly moved his hands from Calum’s wrist to each side of his waist, pushing his body into his as he positioned his thigh between Calum’s. So now their bodies were flushed together, one of Calum’s hands cupped Ashton’s jaw and the other slipped into his curls, making Ashton softly groan into Calum’s mouth when he tugged them.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Calum gasped between kisses, a sly grin plastered on his face.

“Me neither,” Ashton replied with a peck, “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

Calum managed to pull back from Ashton, who whined when Calum denied him of what he wanted, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. His lips were already darker and swollen from all that making out, and Calum was dying to feel them again against his.

“You have?”

Ashton nodded, “I couldn’t fight it, you’re so hot when you’re grumpy,” a playful smirk grew on his lips and his eyes wandered Calum’s face.

“You’re a dick,” Calum repeated what he had said minutes ago, but this time with a noticeable fondness in his voice and a smile on his face. He shoved Ashton’s shoulder lightly.

Ashton said nothing in return. Instead he chuckled and grabbed the back of Calum’s neck to pull him into a kiss. Calum felt Ashton’s big hand slowly travelling from his neck, along his torso, purposefully taking his time and driving Calum even more frantic. He rest it gently in his hip, only to surge his body forward, closing the already non existent gap between them. Ashton was holding him down, pressing his muscular body to Calum’s slimmer one, a rush of hotness running in his skin. Ashton opened his mouth to give a tentative lick on his lips, to which Calum gladly parted for. A quiet noise floated from his throat when their tongues met. Calum couldn’t get enough of it, leaving crescent indents of his nails in Ashton’s neck and pulling at his hair as the kiss grew more desperate. Ashton groaned louder this time, and his teeth sunk into Calum’s bottom lip, pulling it and then sliding his tongue over it to relieve the stinging sensation.

Calum loved how responsive Ashton was being. From the heavy breaths he drew when Calum deepened the kiss to the soft moans when Calum started kissing down his neck and biting down on it, every reaction was fuel to Calum’s fire. He wanted to squeeze the most beautiful and weakening sounds out of Ashton. It was making him squirmy, every little noise going straight to his crotch, and he needed more.

Calum grinded his hips forward, rubbing his already hardening clothed cock on Ashton’s. The older boy let out a loud moan, the most delicious sound Calum ever heard, so he did it over and over again. Ashton grinded back and Calum could feel their covered dicks rubbing against each other. All he could hear were exasperated gasps and moans coming from both of them. Ashton’s lips never detached from him, even when Calum threw his back with a groan he chased his neck and began sucking at the spot below his ear. Ashton’s hands slipped beneath his shirt. A heat wave spread through Calum’s body, the too addictive pressure and rhythm of their bodies pushing Calum closer to the edge. And then Ashton stopped his movements, getting a whining flustered Calum in result.

“I’m about to come, need to stop” the older boy was having trouble speaking, inhaling between every two words.

Calum understood, a bit flattered by Ashton’s state. It would be uncomfortable walking home with dried come in his pants. But it would be uncomfortable walking home with a boner, too. As much as it would have cost thinking it a few minutes ago, Calum was hoping they wouldn’t have to do either.

He took a step back and eyed Calum up and down, stopping his gaze at where his hands were still positioned under Calum’s black shirt. He peeked at Calum, inquisitive, fingertips hooked in the hem of his t-shirt. Calum reached for the hem and as he was throwing his shirt over his head he felt Ashton’s greedy mouth attacking his collarbones, leaving faded small marks along them. He flexed his knees and bent his head to brush his lips across his olive skin, moving downwards and latching his mouth on one of his nipples, making Calum sigh heavily. Calum hissed as he felt Ashton tugging it gently with his teeth, flicking his tongue over it again before he went further down the brunette boy’s body. He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses and bites on Calum’s abs and his sides and he gave a last peck on his hipbone as he got on his knees and glanced up at Calum with a mischievous smile.

Without breaking eye contact, he undid his jeans and pulled them until they were pooled in around his ankles. He kissed the spot below Calum’s bellybutton, moved downwards until he began mouthing at the hard shape of his length through the fabric of his underwear. Calum let out a low moan, eyes still locked with Ashton’s lust-filled ones. His knees wobbled when Ashton curled his fingers under his boxer briefs and pulled them down, letting them fall loosely on top of his skinny jeans. His dick sprang up in front of Ashton’s widened eyes, and Calum was so turned on he could feel his heartbeat in it.

Ashton slowly brought his mouth closer to it, his hot breath making Calum shudder. The blonde boy was reaching for his dick, but Calum’s hand slapped it, curling around it himself. Ashton looked up at him with his eyebrows drawn up and a frown on his lips.

“You were a jerk to me, ever since the first minute you met me,” Calum groaned, “I’m not sure you deserve my cock in your mouth.”

Calum decided that if Ashton was going through with the blowjob, he would make the best of it. Teasing him was what always made him feel alive, besides playing his instrument. Normally, he wasn’t one to talk that way, always too timid to speak up. But this isn’t a normal situation, and the shyness was always swept away around Ashton.

Ashton made a whining noise.

“If you really want it, you have to beg,” Calum continued as he gave his cock a couple of pumps, making Ashton wet his bottom lip with his tongue as he watched drops of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He looked up at Calum again.

“Please,” the kneeling boy was giving him puppy eyes.

Calum made a ‘tsk’ sound, shaking his head, “Come on, you can do better than that.”

Ashton gave Calum’s dick a glance before looking at him again, “Please, let me have your cock, let me make it up to you. Please, Calum!”, he whined.

Calum was caught by surprise when Ashton said his name. It was the first time he heard him say it, and it struck Calum a lot more intensely than he expected. He wanted to hear Ashton moaning it over and over again.

“Make it up to me, uh?” Calum grinned, “Open your mouth and put your tongue out.”

Ashton did as he said, eyes shining bright, anxiously awaiting for what he asked for. Calum grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. With his other hand, he brought his hard cock to rest above Ashton’s tongue, before tapping it lightly against it. Calum nodded at him, signaling he could go for it. Ashton curled his long fingers around the base of Calum’s cock, holding it up to lick a flat, wet line on the underside of it and wrapping his mouth around the head, forcing a gasp out of the younger boy.

Calum tried to be as quiet as possible, miserably failing. They were in the middle of the school and he was sure good things wouldn’t come out of being caught by someone. He bit his bottom lip hard to contain the filthy sounds, but there seemed to be no way to keep them from pouring out. Ashton looked so pretty, looking at him from under his lashes, his pretty pink lips slowly inching down on his slick cock, hollowing his cheeks. Calum grabbed a fistful of Ashton’s curls and pulled at them, the moans it elicited vibrating throughout his body.

This was true ecstasy. Droplets of sweat began forming in Calum’s hairline, chest and abs, and there was a warm feeling growing in the base of his tummy. Ashton was bobbing his head up and down at a perfect pace, then finally slipping Calum’s dick out of his mouth with a pop. He winked at Calum before taking him in his mouth again, eyeing him playfully as he got closer and closer to the base. His dick poked the back of Ashton’s throat, but he stopped himself from choking, tears swelling in his eyes, until his nose brushed Calum’s skin.

“Fuck!” Calum cried out as he felt his brain freeze.

Ashton pulled back to catch his breath, a big smile on his face that made Calum’s spit-covered cock twitch in Ashton’s stroking hand.

“Oh my g-god, Ashton,” Calum yelped.

He couldn’t help notice this was the first time he said Ashton’s name too. It felt right. He liked it, and something about Ashton’s expression told him he liked it too.

His muscles began clenching involuntarily, his skin burned with pleasure and Calum couldn’t hold it any more.

“I- I’m c-close” Calum whimpered.

Ashton stroked Calum faster, twisting his wrist down to his base before putting his lips around Calum’s dick again. Calum bucked his hips forward into the wet heat of Ashton’s mouth without wanting to, actually scared he had upset him. Ashton just placed his arm over Calum’s torso, using his strength to hold him down while using the other to palm himself over his jeans. And then Calum was whimpering, shaking uncontrollably, a buzzing sound resonating in his ears as he came down Ashton’s throat in hot strings of come. Ashton swallowed it all and sucked him dry, causing Calum to convulse as he slowly came down from his high.

Calum threw his head back on the wall with a thump, “Holy shit.”

Gentle fingers traced the hard line of his jaw, and he let his head fall to look at a smiling Ashton, who was already on his feet.

“Am I forgiven?” he teased, pecking Calum’s lips.

“I guess,” Calum looked down between them, noticing Ashton’s hard length pressing against the fabric of his jeans, “Let me help you out with that.”

Calum turned them around so Ashton was the one pressed against the wall now. He moved his hands to pop the button in Ashton’s skinny jeans, shoving them down his legs to cup him properly through his underwear and starting rubbing it. A heavy breath came out of Ashton, who arched his back and bucked his hips, silently imploring Calum to stop teasing him. The swollen pink head of his dick peeked beneath the hem of boxers, a mouth-watering sight that made Calum falter.

Calum pulled his boxers by the waistband and let them snap against it, making Ashton hiss. Calum chuckled at this and finally decided to comply to Ashton’s needs as he slowly removed the straining fabric and freed his happily bouncing cock.

He had a gorgeous dick that made Calum wish this wasn’t the only time he would get to see it. Which reminded him he had never liked the boy in the first place. Yet here he was, licking the palm of his hand and wrapping his fingers around Ashton’s cock when any other day he wouldn’t even care if he disappeared mysteriously for ever. Not only that, he really hoped they would do this again in a near future. Probably more.

He shook his head violently. These toxic thoughts were driving him mad. He wondered if Ashton’s sweet mouth had a mind-manipulating substance that made him feel this way. He definitely did. He couldn’t afford being weak. This was Ashton he was talking about, the boy who had been nothing but a pebble in his shoe since they met.

But the reality was that he was there, jerking Ashton off and enjoying every minute of it, every sound and every heavy breath that came out of his mouth. He started stroking him faster, collecting the pre-cum at the tip to spread it along his length.

“Oh god, Calum, like that” Ashton moaned.

The mention of his name startled him again, going straight to his cock. Ashton seemed to have noticed it by the way his eyes squinted in playfulness. He leaned his head towards Calum.

“You like it when I say your name,” he purred in his ears, and god forbid Calum from getting hard again.

“Shut up” he grumbled, trying not to blush.

Ashton laughed, resting his head on Calum’s shoulder as he sighed his name again. Maybe Ashton moaning his name was his new favorite sound. Calum twisted his fist in a way that made the other boy let out a loud whimper, raising his head from Calum’s shoulder and catching his lips in a fervent kiss. He shoved his tongue past Calum’s lips, his moans swallowed by him. It almost felt too intimate when Ashton pulled back from it, still close, fucking the tight ring of Calum’s fingers until he was having trouble breathing and started to shake.

“I’m gonna-,” he breathed.

Calum pushed his chest softly so he lied his back on the wall again, “I wanna watch you come.”

He gripped his cock firmly, quickening the pace, staring jaw-slacked at the image before him.

Ashton looked so pretty like this. The rays of sunlight hitting his tanned skin, neck shining with sweat, his hazel eyes never leaving Calum’s and his mouth hanging open. His sharp breaths were coming in quicker, his arm reaching out tightly grabbing Calum at the junction of his neck and his shoulder. And then his face scrunched up, a crease formed in his eyebrows as he cried out and came on Calum’s fingers, some of it landing on his stomach.

Calum watched him savour the moment, mesmerized by how beautiful he was. He didn’t even try to deny what he felt now. His head was too numb and Ashton was too gorgeous. He fought back the wish to kiss him, though, taking his hands off him and backing away.

Calum put on his underwear and jeans, turning around to get some tissues to wipe himself with before putting on his shirt. Ashton was still supporting himself on the white wall, admiring Calum with his gaping mouth and tired eyes.

“Wow,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” Calum agreed.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“We should have done that a lot sooner,” Ashton confessed, as he straightened himself and pulled his pants up.

He walked up to Calum in a swaying manner, like he was taking his time, maybe trying to come up with something else to say to break the silence, or maybe waiting for an answer. But Calum didn’t know how to answer. He’d been too busy hating Ashton and worried trying to hide the dirty thoughts about him the last days. The thought that Ashton felt it too still hadn’t been accepted in his head.

Ashton stopped in front of him.

“I hate you,” he said smiling.

“Right back at ya,” Calum answered with a bigger smile.

Ashton giggled before leaning in and pressing a hesitant kiss to Calum’s lips.

“See you around, I guess,” he whispered against his mouth, before strolling past him.

Calum put his bow in its case before closing it, unable to stop smiling. He sprang up while turning to the door, the question in his chest too big and bothering to keep it in.

“Wanna go out som-”

But he couldn’t finish. The door had already slammed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Maybe leave a comment saying what you thought of it? Constructive criticism sure would be nice. Or leave kudos if you liked, that's wonderful too. Thanks a lot! xx


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